


Exit Stage Left

by Fabrisse



Series: Miscellaneous Shakespeare [9]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: The masquerade at Capulet's goes differently.  Mercutio and Benvolio discuss the specifics.
Relationships: Romeo Montague/Tybalt
Series: Miscellaneous Shakespeare [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704163
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Exit Stage Left

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoctorTrekLock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/gifts).



_Mercutio put an arm around Benvolio and pulled him to one side. “Who is it this time?”_

_“What?”_

_“Romeo. First there was… actually, I have no idea who was first -- he’s been in love with love since we were in third form -- but last week it was Rosaline, then for a whole two days it was her cousin Juliet of the house of Capulet, and what was the boy thinking with -- “_

_Benvolio chuckled. “We both know what he was thinking with, and it wasn’t his head.”_

_“Well, not the big one at any rate.” Mercutio continued, “Nor his heart either for all he blathers about love.”_

_“And what about you and dreams? Queen Mab? Whoever heard of Queen Mab before you?”_

_“Many, my dear Benvolio. Had you attended your lectures at the academy, she wouldn’t have been new to you. But I digress, Romeo. Who’s he professing undying ardor for now?”_

_“Tybalt.”_

_Mercutio tripped on a loose paving stone and said, “Tybalt? The one who tried to cut out his liver and eat it with fava beans and a cheap chianti when we were at the academy? That Tybalt?”_

_“The very one.”_

_“Tell me,” Mercutio sighed._

_Benvolio began._

***  
“You’re Romeo!” Tybalt shouted outside the party.

Doffing his mask, Romeo said, “What?”

“I am for you!”

Romeo looked at the young man more closely. He’d heard Mercutio call him the Prince of Cats, but never before had he realized how apt the appellation was, the grace with which he moved, the impression of something sharp hidden beneath softness, the slightly tilted green eyes, just like Juliet’s.

“You are, sir?” Romeo’s voice went breathy with wonder, deepened with seduction. 

“You accosted my cousin, Juliet. You crashed my uncle’s party with never a by-your-leave. You’ve sent bad poetry to my kinswoman, Rosaline. You are a villain.”

Romeo smiled. “Juliet made it clear that she was too young. Your uncle invited all to the party, except Montagues which is why I masked -- to make myself not a Montague. And my poetry isn’t that bad for an amateur, though I admit it could use work.”

“Draw, I say.”

“If I had the paints to mix, I would, just to see if I could capture the perfection of your eye-color.”

Tybalt stopped flat. “Have you heard not a word I said? You have offended me. My family’s honor demands satisfaction!”

***  
_Mercutio goggled at Benvolio. “And what were you doing?”_

_“I’d gone to find our wayward friend, but when I heard Tybalt’s challenge I stayed in the shadows so he wouldn’t call out his friends and make it a general battle. There were at least ten of his gang supping with his uncle. Even with me at his side, Romeo still wouldn’t have stood a chance.”_

_Mercutio sighed. “Granted. So, Romeo’s gone moon-calf on Tybalt and Tybalt’s trying to skewer him. What next?”_

***  
Old Capulet toddled out of his house and said, “Tybalt! What are you shouting about?”

“This Montague!”

Romeo put his mask back on and nodded to Old Capulet who smiled and said, “I see no Montague here, merely a masker. Come in Tybalt. Juliet says Count Paris has been stamping on her toes and she needs her graceful cousin to grant her feet relief.”

The two went inside and Benvolio popped out of the bushes. “Come on, Romeo. We won’t get that lucky twice.”

“He’s perfect.”

“Who’s perfect?”

“Tybalt. How have I not seen it til now when he offered himself so sweetly?”

Benvolio winced. “He wasn’t propositioning you, Romeo. He was challenging you to a duel.”

“By saying ‘I am yours’, kinsman? No, I know what he stirred in me and I can do no less for him.”

“Look, I know you and Mercutio had a thing while we were at the academy, but you’ve gone for girls ever since. Are you sure?”

“He inspires me to paint.”

“And Rosaline inspired you to write. Who could forget the immortal words:  
“That one body should be fill'd

“With all graces wide-enlarged:

“Nature presently distill'd

“Helen's cheek, but not her heart,

“Cleopatra's majesty,

“Atalanta's better part,

“Sad Lucretia's modesty.

“Thus Rosalind of many parts

“By heavenly synod was devised.” AsYouLikeIt - ActIII Scene2

“I said at the time, no woman -- or man for that matter -- wants to be devised by a church council.”

“The ill-educated ratings of a beardless boy, too young to know the truth of love.”

“It was last week, Romeo. You had a beard then. And your education hasn’t improved, either.”

“Benvolio, you are too much the literalist. Love is metaphor and sighs and lifts and dances and…”

“All the arts. I told you: I heard it last week.”

Romeo shook his head. “This is different. It’s pure, like the water from the deepest well.”

“Didn’t the well at your country place end up poisoning the chickens? I mean it looked clear enough, but…”

“Benvolio, you have no soul.”

“Soul or no soul, I’m the one who’ll get you back to your father’s place tonight. What you do tomorrow is on yourself.”

“You think I won’t remember this.” Romeo said, sighing in disappointment.

“I fear you will. Either way, the morning will bring clarity. A headache, too, but clarity.”

***  
_Mercutio said, “You should have brought him to my place instead of his father’s. If he hadn’t achieved clarity, I would have knocked him out until he did.”_

_”I would have, but his father left me strict instructions.”_

_”So where lies our Dante, now? His father’s? Your place? Not the graveyard, I hope.”_

_Benvolio hung his head. “I tried to tell the servants not to let him out in the morning until after his father had awakened, but apparently he went out to his study and painted some postmodernist line and chunks thing and claimed it was a portrait of his true love.”_

_“Rosaline, Juliet, or Tybalt.”_

_“Tybalt. Along with flowers, fresh fruit for his breakfast, and what the local barista assured him was Tybalt’s favorite coffee.”_

_Mercutio eyed his friend skeptically. “What happened?”_

_“Tybalt answered his own door, drank the coffee, took the fruit, the painting, and the morning paper which was lying on the mat and shut the door in Romeo’s face.”_

_“You still haven’t answered the question.”_

_“I’m getting there, I swear.” Benvolio scratched the back of his neck. “So, there was some serenading with a guitar -- in broad daylight no less -- and then…”_

_After a long pause, Mercutio said, “And then?”_

_“Tybalt opened the door. I ducked behind a tree. I’d been trying to persuade Romeo to go home, or better yet to Rome, and didn’t want to be collateral damage. Instead, Tybalt walked up to him with a pear, told Romeo it was the sweetest he’d ever tasted though not so sweet as Romeo’s singing, and dragged him indoors by the belt. I heard noises, but it became obvious quickly that it wasn’t a fight, so I wandered off.”_

_“You mean?”_

_“As best I can tell they’ve been shagging each other rotten for the past week.”_

_Mercutio said, “Which is why you’ve been avoiding your kinsman Montague, which is why he approached my kinsman, which is why the prince sent me to find you.”_

_“That’s about the size of it.”_

_“Do you think the Capulets will make an offer for Romeo?”_

_“Do you think the Montagues would make an offer for Tybalt?”_

_Mercutio looked out the window. “I think the weather in Bergamo will be healthier than in Verona. I’ll meet you outside the city walls in an hour.”_

_Benvolio said, “I’ll be there.” He was halfway down the block before he called back to Mercutio. “Wait, isn’t there a war on in Bergamo?”_

_“There’s always a war on in Bergamo, but at least it won’t be Verona.”_

_Benvolio turned back to find a good horse and pack._


End file.
